What time is this? What age of man? My body feels so broken. What day is it? What place is this? I’ve nothing left to try; I have done all I could.
Who knows what will become of my life? When I am done in, will my words remain unspoken? We all become our mother’s daughter, Or we become our father’s son.
As beauty fades, we seek the shade; The sunshine is no longer attractive. In modern times, there is money to be made, In anything, if we are not too distracted.
The hopes of youth are not often followed through; Such dreams are fanciful. If you became the same as you had wished for in youth; Would you still be so grateful?
Such ambitions are usually far-fetched; Only realistic aims are achieved. The fountain of youth is wasted on you; Accept your fate and leave the next generation to grieve.
Age is just a number and your number is up. You have lived a long and interesting life, so embrace the end. Time is continuous; We are not. On this you can depend.